console. Till reality confront us, it is well, it may be, to
cherish ideals that we hold to surpass it in beauty; but once face to
face with reality, then must the ideal flame that has fed on our
noblest desires be content to throw faithful light on the less fragile,
less tender beauty of the mighty mass that crushes these desires. Nor
does this seem to me to imply a mere drowsy fatalism, or servile
acquiescence, or optimism shrinking from action. The sage no doubt must
many a time forfeit some measure of the blind, the head-strong,
fanatical zeal that has enabled some men, whose reason was fettered and
bound, to achieve results that are nigh superhuman; but therefore none
the less is it certain that no man of upright soul should go forth in
search of illusion or blindness, of zeal or vigour, in a region
inferior to that of his noblest hours. To do our true duty in life, it
must ever be done with the aid of all that is highest in our soul,
highest in the truth that is ours. And even though it be permissible at
times in actual, every-day life to compromise with events, and not
follow impulse to the ruthless end--as did St. Just, for instance, who
in his admirable and ardent desire for universal peace, happiness,
justice, in all good faith sent thousands to the scaffold--in the life
of thought it is our unvarying duty to pursue our thought right to the
end.

Again, the knowledge that our actions still await the seal of final
truth can deter from action those only who would have remained no less
inert had no such knowledge been theirs. Thought that rises encourages
where it disheartens. And to those of a loftier vision, prepared in
advance to admire the truth that will nullify all they have done, it
seems only natural still to endeavour with all might and main to
enhance what yet may be termed the justice, the beauty, the reason of
this our earth. They know that to penetrate deeper, to understand, to
respect--all this is enhancement. Above all, they have faith in "the
idea of the universe." They are satisfied that every effort that tends
to improvement approaches the secret intention of life; they are taught
by the failure of their noblest endeavours, by the resistance of this
mighty world, to discover anew fresh reasons for wonder, for ardour,
for hope.

As you climb up a mountain towards nightfall, the trees and the houses,
the steeple, the fields and the orchards, the road, and even the river,
will gradually dwindle a